The weather was boasting summer-like qualities. So with a spur of the moment spontaneity, I booked 2 nights away in Menton. Menton, is not far from Nice.
The little hotel was cute as a button.
The dining room had a certain homely charm.
On the second night of my stay, the fire alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. There was much siren wailing, thumping on the stairs, animated, rapid fire french and general mayhem. I stayed in my room, gambling that it was a false alarm.
The french pioneered an art form called, trompe d'oeil. It means, trick of the eye. The painting makes a bare wall look as it it is an exquisite landscape. The little lounge of the hotel sported a couple of really cool, trompe d'oeuil.
I found out the next morning, that a couple of guys had come home late from partying and had lit up a cigarette inside their room. Oh boy!!!
Menton is a beautiful little place. Unfortunately it didn't have the "x" factor as much as my beloved Nice.
I meandered through the street market. By now, I have grown wary of buying stuff, as it just means extra luggage to cart home. I didn't like the way the vendors were so pushy to buy something.
In the late afternoon, I hopped on the ridiculous little tourist train, so that I could get a good idea of the layout of the town.
After the train ride, I wandered through the old part of town that was dedicated to tourists. This shop had beautiful displays that caught my eye.
The next day, I thought I would hop across the border to Italy in order to visit a little market. Hmmmm. It turned out to be a humdinger of orchestrated misfortune.
Here is a snapshot of the train timetable. It was like a brain teaser. At the bottom it said that all of these trains are subject to change to allow for work on the track!!! Bloody hell !!!!
The train ride involved a change at an italian town that I have no idea how to spell.
It turned out that I had just missed the one that I was instructed to catch. So I waited for an hour to catch the next one. That meant that I had to wait another hour, when I was to change at the unpronounceable italian place. unfortunately, I couldn't ride on that train, because I hadn't booked. So I had to wait another hour!!!! Shit !!!!!
So, I had plenty of time to kill. I amused myself by walking around and taking in the sights.
This pretty park provided a pleasant vista.
I loved this little sexy convertible.
I amused myself by taking photos of ridiculously trivial things: e.g. this cute old-fashioned fire-engine red fire hydrant.
Wandering around town, it was very easy to get lost. I got a bit of a scare at one stage. "Lost in Italy" !!!
I eventually made it to San Remo. By this time my mood was altogether jovial, but these cyclamens were a happy sight to see.
The market had lovely white tents and the balloons provided a festive air.
However, I soon found out that the prices were ridiculously inflated.
The white building with the green shutters provided a pretty backdrop to the market.
I found my way back to the train station, but was dismayed to find out that the next train leaves in an hour!!! Oh man!!! So, I went for a walk around San Remo to kill some more time.
here's some interesting sights around town.
This cactus seemed quite dignified in its old age.
This house seemed to look like out of a movie set.
This little alcove is totally dedicated to automated self-serve shopping.
By now, I was getting quite weary from all that wandering around. But ...... the italian train station was a NIGHTMARE!!! The entrance lead you into an underground tunnel. To get to the train tracks you had to walk through this endless tunnel!!!
You're eyesight isn't going wonky. The flooring and lighting were CRAZY! I felt like I was walking into a 1960's time machine. Running late must be MURDER as you sprint to catch your train!
By the time I reached the end of the tunnel, I was exhausted. But there was nowhere to sit. It was practically deserted, freezing cold and spooky to the max.
And so I had to go through the excruciatingly painful experience of changing trains in some little nondescript italian town. In the final leg of my journey, I missed my stop! But fortunately things transpired so that i didn't have to catch another train back.
After all that, I cancelled my plans to go and visit Monaco. I just didn't have the positive vibes going. How disappointing!
With my head hung low, I retreated back to my hotel room. I had a power nap. Unfortunately, it didn't revive me and the bleak, grey weather hung still and listless. I walked along the waterfront and paused at the park. The distant mountains line the horizon with an interesting silhouette. Watching mothers with push chairs, teenage boys throwing a rugby ball, elderly couples sharing silent togetherness and men talking in smoking huddles, it was difficult to push aside my feelings of isolation.
I missed the famous carnival. It was held the weekend before my visit. A local shop had pictures of the floats in the shop window. I smiled to myself at the absurdity of taking a photo of the photos of the parade.
The floats are totally constructed out of lemons and oranges. It seemed like an awful waste to me.
The next morning I enjoyed a Mc Donald's breakfast. The sun was shining. I could have stayed there all day. Ooooooh the sun on my back was delicious.
Menton looked great in the fresh, morning light.
It was soooo good to take my shoes off and bathe them in the salty, icy water.
With the luxury of time on my side, as the hotel check out time was midday, I paused for half an hour on the beach. I turned my face to the sun to try and gain some colour for a healthy glow!
When I returned to the city streets, I was delighted to be caught up with the happy buzz of a marathon taking place.
There was clapping and cheering as the sturdy runners displayed their prowess.
I seem to be attracted to taking snapshots of mountains of balloons.
I only had an hour to wait after checking out of my hotel.
The train trip from Nice to Marseilles was pure pleasure. The southern coastal countryside is incredibly beautiful.
I only had an hour to wait before my next train to Gap would depart. I decided to take the opportunity to take some snaps of Marseilles train station.
Inside the station, there were lots and lots of trees growing!
The bus station adjoins the train station. "Cars" means coaches!
You can buy your train ticket from a machine. i don't feel comfortable doing that. There's just far too much that could go wrong. Train tickets are not cheap. I would rather burble out some french at the counter with a real, live person.
Arrivals, departures, platforms, halls, commuters, beggars, buskers ..... NOISY! and confusing! But , I think I have mastered the art of interpreting the TV screens.
There's a piano there, that any old Joe Blow can play to entertain passers by.
Disaster struck! Somebody committed suicide on the track in front of my train as it was heading towards Marseilles. Therefore, my train to Gap had been deleted. And so had all the trains using that line, for an undisclosed amount of time.
What ensued next, was three hours of hell. All the other commuters were thrown into a spin and so was I. There was so much anger about. It was awful.
I was reluctant to pay another 40 Euros to enable me to catch the coach back to Gap. I was reluctant to pay for a hotel to stay the night in Marseilles. I was stuck.
The people at the Tourism Office were polite, but unable to help me.
I ensconced myself in a chair and mulled over my choices. I decided that i was going to stay put until the trains started running again. Even if it meant sleeping with my bags at the railway station.
As miracles go, I only had a three hour wait. Out of the blue, they announced that the track was now operational.
The journey back to Gap seemed to take an eternity. It was very, very late in the evening. I daren't drop off to sleep for fear of missing my stop.
It was 11:00 p.m. as I dragged my luggage off the train. All of Gap had gone to sleep. I trudged through the empty, cold streets of Gap. The bright, full moon lit my way. I felt like HOWLING with frustration and exhaustion. Arriving at my apartment as the clock struck twelve made me very, very grateful.
Now that that was ONE HECKOVA weekend away!
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